A Rooftop of Winter
by singingstarryknights
Summary: Danny never knew snow could sparkle like it did when it settled in her hair. Gratuitous drabble of DL fluff.


A Rooftop of Winter

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Danny never knew snow could sparkle like it did when it settled in her hair.

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DannyLindsay, harmless, gratuitous fluff.

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"What are you _doing_, Montana?" Danny Messer shivered against the sharp, cold wind, shoving his hands in the pockets of his winter coat, watching as she bent her petite frame, crouching down to run her fingers through the half dozen inches of cold powdery snow on the roof of the crime lab. Lindsay waved him off dismissively, bringing a bit of the snow to eye level, watching it cling to her gloves, a smile curving at the corner of her mouth.

A few feet behind her, Danny frowned, glancing around, trying to determine what, exactly; she was looking for, before returning his gaze to her slim form. She was like those books he read for his English Literature class in college. He could read the words, but their meanings, much like their context, remained enigmatic. He knew enough about her to understand when something was going on, but deciphering her expressions, her body, was slowly coming to the point of futility. He was usually more than adept at figuring out women; a skill he had learned from a menagerie of older Messer men.

Alotta good it was doing him now.

He squinted, confusion written across his features, as she straightened, cocking an eyebrow in her direction as she turned to face him, a genuine grin playing at her lip.

"What?" He looked around again, before bringing his gaze back to her expectantly. "You don't got rooftops in Montana, Linds?" She rolled her eyes, sighing, taking a few steps closer, closing the gap between them, leaving precious inches between her nose and his.

"You don't see it?" Lindsay's grin shifted to smug amusement, biting her lip as he touched his forehead to hers.

"It's cold, Monroe. I'm freezing, here." She chuckled at the faintest trace of whining in his ton, and backed away again, shooting him a mischievous smirk. His features argued silently, exasperation seeping out of him as he shifted his weight, weary. "Fine. Fine. I'm playing along."

"Thank you." She smiled at him, reaching down and gathering a loose handful of the powder that had started to pile up in drifts of snow crystals, already burying them well over the tops of their shoes. "Powder is the best type of snow. Sleek, fresh, light. Cushions your fall like pillows and a mattress. Sticks to your mittens." He coughed out a laugh, returning her smile. "Powder snow is my favorite type of snow."

"Yeah? Snow is all the same in New York, Linds. Dirty, gray, and wet."

"Not this snow. This snow here didn't touch the city." She smiled slyly at him, and he frowned. It was going to eventually get dirty. Turn gray. It always did. Snow was a hassle. A hassle to drive in, a hassle to work in, a hassle when it came down to preserving evidence. It melted. It froze. It sucked. He _hated_ winter.

"Okay. My snow is dirty, your snow is pretty. Can we get off the roof please?"

"You aren't fully appreciating the beauty of a snowflake, Detective." Her tone was scolding, but the smile sparkled in her eyes. God, he wasn't going to thaw until June.

"I don't need to look for beauty in a snowflake. I have you." His abrupt, backhanded confession startled her, and she shot him an amused smile.

"That line work on city girls?"

"It's not a line." He shifted his weight, weary from the double they had just pulled. "We gonna get outta here or are we gonna stand out here in the cold all night?" At her exasperated look, he shivered, trying to show her how cold he actually was. "Linds, I'm cold. Let's go."

"Did you ever go sledding, as a kid?" She hadn't heard him, or, if she did, she was ignoring him. He gaped at her, vaguely wondering how she could stand the sharp bite of the wind coming off the Hudson.

"What? No. Well, a few times. Not really. There aren't many sledding hills on Staten Island." The wind blew flecks of snow against the lenses of his glasses, and he groaned, sliding them off his nose to wipe away the moisture. "Lemme guess- you were the state champion of downhill sledding: toboggan division."

"Alpine." She spoke softly, and he barely heard her.

"Alpine sledding? What the hell is that?" He took a step closer, and she turned to him, an embarrassed smile playing at her lip.

"Alpine _skiing_. State Champion. 1989 and 1991." She dropped the snow from her hands, her cheeks turning pink from a mixture of embarrassment and the biting cold. "And 1992. There aren't any championships for the toboggan, the mountains are too big."

"Like, downhill? With those bumps and stuff?"

"Well, yeah. Moguls. It was a long time ago." She rolled her eyes, brushing the dust of powdery snow off her hands. "Nevermind." She chuckled softly as she recognized his investigator expression, the blue of his eyes focused on the tiny sparkles of snow crystals that had gathered in her hair. "Danny-" She made to pull away, but his smile broadly, flicking his gaze to hers for a mere moment, before pointing to a particular snowflake tangled somewhere in her curls.

"That one. _That_ snowflake is beautiful." There was a hint of amusement in the timbre of his voice, and she laughed softly at the smile that played at the corner of his mouth. He turned back to her, his features sobering, leaning in and catching her lips with his, lingering softly against her, reluctantly pulling away after a few moments.

"Dan, I-" He chuckled, falling in love with the sound of his name in her voice.

"It's just a snowflake, Linds. An aggregate of symmetrical ice crystals. A little granular material. Water vapor under high deposition, at the freezing point." He flashed her a grin, and leaned in, a half a breath away from her. "The science, though, is kinda sexy." She started to reprove, but was cut off suddenly, by Danny's lips crashing delicately into hers, the warmth of his tongue stealing her breath and any hope for coherent thought as it traced the bottom of her lip, tugging gently, making her groan unaudibly.

He pulled away moments later, having let their breathing go ragged. "You about ready to make tracks, then, Montana?" He grinned cheekily at her, but held out his hand. She took it, closing her fingers around his, and letting him lead her to the door that would bring them back down to the warmth of the lab. It had been a long day, but the evening was starting to look promising. She sighed, unable to wipe the goofy grin from her face.

She really, really loved it when it snowed.

Even in the city.

………

A/N: I don't know- I miss the snow. Hehe. Just a little fluffy drabble to balance out the heavy angsty drama-ish stuff in 37. hope you liked!


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